Confessions of a Conman
by ashleyjskywalker
Summary: 2x01. He thought his world was crashing down around him again, until she sat up and screamed. Oneshot.


I have discovered that writing Peter is not anywhere near as easy for me as writing Olivia is. But this insisted on being written, so here it is in all its sub-par glory.

* * *

The moment you realized that she had somehow managed to con the conman is the moment you decided that Olivia Dunham was someone worth getting to know.

She shouldn't have been able to bend you to her will that easily, you muse. You've always prided yourself on being able to read people- it's what's kept you alive and (mostly) out of harm's way for the better part of your life. But somehow, this spitfire of an FBI agent waltzed into your world, blatantly lied to you, and somehow convinced you that coming back to Boston would be a good idea.

The day that Olivia Dunham so confidently walked into your life, it changed forever.

You butted heads with her at first. A lot, in fact. Which, you suppose, was to be expected from the conman and the FBI agent. You wondered if she saw the paradox in this as much as you did, you and your mad scientist of a father working as consultants for the FBI.

You'd never had a reason to put down roots before, never had a cause to stay in one place for any extended period of time. You've always been the lone wolf, always on the move, never letting anyone get close to you. It was always easier that way. It avoided undue conflict.

That all changed the day in the woods, when you ran into that Observer. When it finally hit you that everything you'd seen wasn't just all a coincidence, wasn't just something to be explained away and ignored. When you decided that staying here, helping to puzzle out all of these bizarre events, would be something worth doing. And so, because she needs Walter, and Walter needs you, you stay, although you have the feeling that even if you hadn't had your experience with the Observer, she would have somehow managed to convince you to anyway. You don't seem to be able to turn this woman down.

You tried not to admit to yourself how much you really enjoyed all of this- those days spent at the lab, solving the unexplainable- though you could have done without all of those nights in the hotel room with Walter. You try not to admit how much you enjoy her company, enjoy the banter and the baiting between the two of you.

That changed the day that you had to pull her out of that damned tank, and you realized how good it felt to hold her in your arms. And that was the first day that you wondered, however briefly, what it would be like to hold Olivia Dunham every night. And that must have been the day that your guard finally dropped and you let yourself become attached.

This damned car accident has brought the world crashing back down around you.

Your heart drops, when the doctor tells you that they don't expect her to wake up, when Walter pushes himself past the doctor and into the ICU, and you see her lying there, so still, so... _devoid_ of life. And part of you dies.

You wait until Astrid takes Walter home before slowly making your way into her room. Your mind is already planning your next move, because it's not enough that she's lying here all but dead... No, now they're talking of shutting down Fringe division as well, and this new life that you had seen laid out in front of you is crumbling to dust, your second chance disappearing before you. You wonder where you'll go next, and you suppose it doesn't matter, as long as it's not here. You speculate over whether or not you'll ever return to Boston, and decide the answer is _no,_ because now all that is here is just one more bad memory, as if there weren't enough in this city already.

It doesn't seem right, that she should be lying there so quietly, so still... She, who has been nothing but full of life since the day you met her. It doesn't seem fair that she, who is stubborn enough for a dozen people, should leave this world like this.

You'll miss her, you realize, feeling the tears begin to burn your eyes. Miss that all-too-rare smile, that look of concentration as she puzzled her way through part of a case, the quick wit that was already ready with a snappy comeback to your smart ass remarks. You clench your jaw, refusing to break down and cry in this hospital room. Crying is not something you do.

You have a growing desperation to get out of this hospital room, of this city, away from this feeling growing inside of you. You resist the urge to get up and run, instead sighing heavily and reaching over to touch her cheek one last time.

"_Good-bye,_ _Olivia."_

And as you bend over to kiss her good-bye, suddenly your world is whole again as she sits up and screams.


End file.
